Darev: It's been a long time. I notice a lot of new faces here as well as the notable absence of some cherished old ones. This is a story I began back when I thought I'd have nothing but time. Now time is the one thing I don't have enough of. I began reading through it, thought it sad to let it go unpublished, and finished writing it while my muse was still singing. This is the most shipping I've ever done so for those who don't like the pairing please move on. For those who do, or just want to say hello to an old friend by leaving a review, I hope you enjoy. It feels good to be back in the old neighborhood.
A bit of warning: there is some cussing in this story, so cover your ears.
Disclaimer: Winx Club is created by Iginio Straffi and is a property of Rai Television.
It was raining.
A witch, her green hair matted against her pale face, stared up into the clouds. She was standing on the terrace of a building overlooking the city of Magix. The water was warm. She did not shiver as it kissed her skin. Her exposed arms hugged her nonetheless. She was wearing a pretty one-piece lavender dress that ended above her knees. Her shoes long-since discarded, sprawled on the floor inside her apartment, she stood barefoot on that balcony, letting the rain wash away her emotions.
Her name was Darcy and she was once one of the most feared witches in the universe. Having been part of the deadly coven known as the Trix since as far back as she could remember, Darcy didn't know any other life other than one involving fear, mayhem, and destruction. Her tenure at Cloud Tower had increased her animosity towards humanity tenfold, for there was no love among her kind. At Cloud Tower, she learned to take her cruelty to new levels and developed her powers to the point where she need use only her mind. Out of all the Trix, Darcy was the most intelligent, the most cunning and manipulative. Only Icy's carelessness and Stormy's incompetence prevented her from achieving her true ambition.
She was meant for great things. Darcy always knew that. It's funny how one's plans could fall apart at a single moment. For Darcy, that moment came when she met a boy. Not just any boy...but him. He was unlike any other boy she had ever met and Darcy had been with several. Before she met him, boys were just a means to an end; they were a distraction at best, an annoyance at worse, and Darcy never, ever allowed herself to get too close to any of them. She was a born manipulator who enjoyed using them to her own ends. Even her sisters resented her ability to manipulate boys at her whim. She had brains and beauty, not to mention a kick-ass body. Males just fell at her feet at her beck and call.
But not this one. For the first time in her life, Darcy knew what it was like to be on the other side of the fence. He'd used her. He'd fooled her. She had dropped her defenses long enough for him to see her vulnerability. It had been a mistake. All witches were vulnerable. They all had their insecurities which they tried to hide behind walls of arrogance and cruelty. Only those who used fear, who wielded it like a weapon, could truly appreciate its power. Witches were always afraid of being found out, of being made to look weak, incompetent, soft, or, as in the case of a certain red-headed witch, kind. There was no room for kindness in that world. There was no room for kindness in her world.
There was no room for love.
But then...
Water streamed down her face. It was not the rain this time, but her own sorrow-filled tears that warmed Darcy's cheeks. She was getting soaked but she did not care. She just wanted the rain to wash her away like the filth she had become. She had heard a story once, from some backwater planet, where a witch had been killed simply because someone had thrown a bucket of water over her, causing her to melt. Maybe that's what she was waiting for. It was stupid of course, for witches did not melt no matter how unclean their souls, but Darcy found herself wishing for that fate all the same.
Melt me, her mind began to say. Destroy me. Wash me away as if I'd never existed. Please, she begged the rain, just take away this pain. I don't want to feel anymore. Erase me so that I never have to know what it is to love ever again.
The tears mingled with the rainwater. It became impossible to tell them apart. Anyone who saw her then would see a young woman getting drenched in the rain...alone.
Darcy now knew what it was to be truly alone.
Maybe she should just end it, Darcy thought. Without thinking, her eyes left the serene grayness of the clouds. They looked down at the street several stories below. The building was not particularly tall, but a fall from this height would most surely kill her. If she went head-first, her chances of survival would be less than minute. It would be a quick death. Painless. It was a more peaceful end than most witches met with in their lifetime. She imagined her body, frail and beautiful, plummeting towards the earth; a slave to the hands of gravity that would pull her into its final embrace. She could see her body hitting the earth, her neck snapping, her limbs giving way, her lifeblood caking the street and sidewalk.
Would she be alive, Darcy wondered, to hear that final snap!? Would she know she had died? Would she hear someone's scream when they saw her lifeless form crumble together like some discarded doll? Yes...that's what I am: some useless doll that nobody wants anymore. I am unloved and forgotten. If I die today, who will remember me? My sisters? My family? My enemies? Darcy shut her eyes. He won't remember me. He doesn't even care about me.
So why was she even considering this action? Why would she kill herself over a guy who did not share her feelings for her?
Why do I care?
One hand on the rail, Darcy slipped one rain-soaked leg over the balcony. The other one shortly followed. Now she was sitting, her bare feet dangling over a thirty-foot fall to the street below. Her heartbeat drowned out all other sounds. She wasn't thinking with her head anymore. Darcy, one of the smartest witches to have ever lived, was listening only to her broken heart. Her heart demanded that her body follow; it promised this would all be over just as soon as she...jumped.
She sat there for what felt like hours when in reality just a few short minutes passed. Why do I care? Her inner voice echoed inside her head. It didn't matter anymore. Taking her last deep breath before the plunge, Darcy readied to submit herself to gravity. Time froze.
"Darcy!"
The world exploded into focus. It was like falling asleep only to wake up and find oneself dangling...over a terrace! In the blink of an eye, Darcy lost herself to gravity. Her body, soaked from the rain, had no leverage on the railing. Her fingers tried to grab something, to prevent herself from the fall that would surely kill her, but the witch had rolled the dice too many times. Death had come for her and he would not be cheated out of his prize.
She slipped.
Darcy fell away, her arms and legs kicking madly at the air. Only the quick action by a pair of reaching hands prevented her from falling the rest of the way. The hands struggled to hold her tightly for she was beginning to slip from their grasp. Darcy cried out. "Hang on!" The voice said. Darcy knew that voice. She could never forget it. Looking up, the witch found herself staring into a pair of violet eyes. His eyes.
"Riven?"
"I've got you!" Straining, Riven managed to pull Darcy up inch by inch. By the time he got her trembling, rain-soaked body over the balcony, the youth was spent. Both he and Darcy collapsed on the balcony, gasping.
Riven propped himself up on the bars of the railing, sitting. "What the...the hell were you thinking?"
"Me?" Darcy's face shot up incredulously. "What the hell are you doing here?" How did he find me, Darcy asked?
"I came looking for you." Riven's eyes were frozen in disbelief. "Were you actually going to jump?"
"Damn straight, I was!" Her ire returning strength to her tired limbs, Darcy stood up and marched back into the apartment. Riven followed soon after.
"Why?" He asked her.
"Because I'm sick of living. Is that so hard to understand?"
"Darcy...if this is because of me."
The witch reared on him, yellow eyes flashing. "Go fuck yourself, Riven! Get out of here. I don't ever want to see you again!"
The specialist sighed. He brushed a hand through his hair. "Look, Darcy. I'm sorry."
"I said get lost!"
"No, Darcy!" Riven's head shot up. "I won't leave. I made a mistake and it almost cost you your life."
"What do you care about my life?"
"I care a lot. You may find this hard to believe but I actually have feelings for you."
"Piss off!"
Darcy turned about, looking for a towel to pad herself dry. She went into the bathroom. Riven remained where he was and kept talking. "I'm serious, Darcy. It's taken me a long time to realize something. An epiphany comes only once in a lifetime."
"And what's that?" Darcy entered the living room, towel-drying her hair. "Did you realize what an idiot you were? That you're just a piece of shit who isn't worth scrapping off one's heel?"
"Darcy..."
"What? You're going to hit me now?"
"You're right."
Darcy reacted as if he had hit her. So shocked was he that she dropped her towel.
"I have been acting stupid. But that's because I don't know how to deal with these feelings. I fell in love...that is, I thought I was in love with a girl. It turns out she didn't really feel the same for me. It was just passion. There was no love involved."
A wicked smirk curved Darcy's lips. "She broke your heart."
"No," he answered and the smirk vanished. "You have to be in love in order for that to happen. I told you, it wasn't true love. We liked each other is all. It's not like what Bloom has with Sky or Stella with Brandon. It was just puppy love. Innocent. Naive. Unreal. There was nothing to it."
"You're kidding." Darcy glowered at him. "You came all the way out here to tell me that you and Musa broke up?"
"I came here looking for you," Riven said. "And it's a good thing. Do you realize what you almost did?"
"Do you realize I could have you arrested for breaking and entering?" Darcy walked over to the door. It was open thanks to Riven's lock-picking abilities. Old habits die hard. Underneath all that Red Fountain training and military bravado, Riven was and always will be a thief at heart. "How did you find where I was?"
"I have my sources."
Closing the door, Darcy looked over her shoulder.
"Your sister."
"Stormy," Darcy breathed through grit teeth. She didn't need to think on it a moment to know who ratted her out. "I'm going to kill her."
"You should thank her. She cares for you enough that she sent me to help you."
"Help me? HELP ME?" Darcy reared on him again. "I don't need help from some dickless boy who fancies himself a hero. Now get out of here!"
"You're standing in front of the door."
"There's the window." Darcy pointed. "It's a bit of a drop so watch your step."
"I'm not leaving."
"Oh yes you are." Darcy raised her hand, palm out, where a spark of dark energy had gathered. "One way or the other."
But Riven was unafraid. He did not move or show the slightest hint of concern.
"I see you prefer other." Darcy collected enough energy in her hand to blow a hole through his chest. She realized she had it all wrong. All this time she thought killing herself would make things better, when in reality she need only kill him. Deep down she knew it would not make things any better, but she was angry. She needed to kill something.
"Darcy." Riven took a step towards her.
"I'm warning you, Riven." Despite all the pain he'd caused, Darcy was giving him a chance to leave with his life. Why? She could kill him so easily. "Leave!"
"I won't."
"Then you will die."
"What does it matter?" His question caught her off guard. "You kill me or yourself. Either way...I die."
"What are you talking about?" Why do I care?
"I mean...I...damn. Why is this so hard?" Riven looked away.
"Just go away."
"I can't." His eyes pleaded with her. "Don't you see, Darcy? I can't turn away from you. I've tried to stop thinking about you. I kept telling myself you put me under a spell. You haunt my dreams. I see you. I can feel your breath. I can smell your hair. I know the touch of your skin by heart."
"A single night together does not make us an item."
"It was more than that. You know it." Riven stepped aside, not to make himself less of a target but so he could motion out the balcony. "You were about to jump to your death on the very street you spelled me."
Darcy's eyes lit up. He was right. On that long ago moment at the Day of the Rose, Darcy had intentionally cast a spell on Riven to make him fall in love with her. Obviously that spell had long since diminished, so what could he be talking about?
"I had myself checked over and over again. There is no spell. No curse. What I feel for you, what I thought to be simple lust, is actually my own heart telling me what my brain refuses to accept."
"What are you saying?" Darcy could see that Riven was torn up about something. He was always a man at war with himself. It was one of the things that attracted Darcy to him in the first place. He was dark no doubt, possessing negative energies that surpassed most witches. But it was something more. There was a deeper reservoir which even Darcy was unable to tap into. Riven's soul was a storm. It was chaotic and unfathomable. It was a wonder the man was able to function without clutching his head in pain. What anguish he must have felt? What sort of experiences created such a tumultuous youth? It was the mystery behind that fact that drew Darcy to him. He was her plaything. Her sisters teased her about her affections, but Darcy played it him off as just another conquest. When she was done with him, she locked him up in the dungeon of Cloud Tower to be forgotten.
But the truth was she had locked him away for her sake. She could not stand being around him. Riven confused her. He also fascinated her. This man could be a tyrant or even a dark sorcerer with the right training, and yet he chose to become a hero. Why? How can one with such a dark heart walk the path of light? More importantly, what did he want with her?
Why do I care?
"I'm saying...I'm..." Riven clenched his fists at his sides. "I'm saying I think I'm in love with you, Darcy."
Sparks flew, but not from Darcy's fingers. What transpired there at that very moment went beyond mere magic. Darcy lowered her hand, unable to speak. Riven had just cast the most powerful spell imaginable. That spell was the truth and for the first time in her life Darcy had no defense. She was a witch, a creature born of malice and darkness, and with just a few short words Riven had silenced every feeling in her heart.
Except for one...
"Y...You love me?" Darcy stuttered, as if the words were coming from someone else, a girl she did not recognize. Love. It was a word fitting on the lips of a fairy, those doe-eyed idiots who fell for every would-be suitor. Darcy pitied them. She even mocked them for it. She never understood how a girl could be so easily taken in by something as simple as a four-letter word. Even after hearing it a thousand times it never had any effect on her. It never meant anything to her.
Seeing her lower her guard, Riven took one tentative step toward her; not for fear that she would lash out at him and keep to her promise to send him spiraling off the balcony. He recognized Darcy was in a vulnerable state. She did not know what to do with herself and Riven, as new to this as she was, was simply trying to ease the tension by showing her that she was not alone. He did this by giving her the kindest, most brilliant smile he could imagine.
"I love you, Darcy." He took another step toward her. "I know this sounds clichéd, but I never met another girl like you. You're special and it's not because you're a witch. You're you. I can't find the words to express what an extraordinary woman you are. You bring out the best in me. If that's not love then I don't know what is."
"You don't know what you're saying." Darcy turned away. It seemed like an instant but Riven was already within arm's reach. His hand carefully clasped her chin so that he could pull her back to face him again. Darcy resisted, or tried to, but when those fingers grazed her skin she was as helpless as a newborn. Her eyes were ablaze with emotion. Darcy willed herself to glare him down, to visually tell him that she would not be his latest conquest. She was strong. She would never submit. She would rather die than...
Her thoughts died with the kiss.
It was more than mere physical contact. In that moment of intimacy, they shared what was in their hearts. Darcy realized this soon enough as she involuntarily wrapped one arm around his strong neck, pulling him closer. The other went around his waist and she tingled when she felt her body pressed up against his. It's as if she was no longer in control. Feelings stronger than anything she'd ever known became her puppeteer and she was their marionette. Riven closed himself around her, smothering her lithe, ample form with his own.
The world could have ended at that point. The twin suns could have burned themselves out, exploding in a blinding display of light and death, enveloping Magix, Alfea, Cloud Tower, and Red Fountain, leaving no trace that anything, that anyone had ever existed. Inside this room with a balcony overlooking a street on a rainy day, two hearts burned brighter than any star.
When it ended, Darcy and Riven were still entwined, arms refusing to let the other go. "You're stupid," she scolded him, though her face was still flushed from the kiss. "I betrayed you once before. Why would you trust me again?"
"I don't."
Darcy blinked.
"But that's part of the fun."
"You really are an idiot."
"They say only a fool falls in love."
"And who's they?" Darcy asked, a smile coming to her face. "I thought you didn't listen to anyone but yourself."
"Which is why I'm that fool."
Darcy almost laughed. No one could ever make her laugh before, not without screaming for mercy, that is. "So what does that make me? What kind of person does a fool fall in love with?"
Without missing a beat, Riven told her. "The kind of fool who loves making all the wrong decisions," he pulled her in close before she could retort, "and making the best of them." When their lips met a second time, Darcy just let him take control. True she'd made some pretty bad decisions in her life, all of them disastrous, and she was taking a big risk by allowing Riven to take it this far. So she asked herself the same question: Why do I care?
Pulling back, her body burning in more places she cared to think of, she answered her own question. "Because I can."
"What?" Riven was confused.
"Because I can make bad decisions. Because I can learn from them. Because I can be the person I want and not worry what anyone else thinks."
"I still don't..." Darcy hushed him when she put a finger on his lips.
Smiling, truly, she touched her nose to his and said, "Because I can fall in love, too. I love you, Riven." This time it was she who kissed him. It lasted longer than the two others and this time their hands did more than simply hold each other. Outside, the rain continued to fall, but it seemed less like the heavens were trying to erase a bad mistake. For Darcy, who always read between the lines, they were tears of joy, like whatever gods were watching them approved. Well let's see how far they could push their luck. Darcy hoped the gods liked a show.
"Come on." She bade Riven who allowed her to lead him toward the bedroom.
"I was kind of hoping we'd take it slow this time."
"You know I'm not the romantic type."
Riven had nothing to say to that.
"Besides," she said just as she reached to close the door, "I'm still cold from the rain."
